


follies

by fridgefish



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridgefish/pseuds/fridgefish
Summary: He wanted to climb in bed with Charlie, wanted him to put his hands back on him. To wrap him up in himself, to breathe the same air. He wanted to rest his head in the crook of Charlie’s neck and sleep without an alarm. He wanted to stay with him for this night, and the next night, and the next.Shit.
Relationships: Charlie Coyle/Chris Wagner
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30
Collections: Pucking Rare - A Hockey Rarepair Challenge





	follies

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [cjmasim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjmasim/pseuds/cjmasim) in the [PuckingRare2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
> 
> 
> au where they're bfs in high school (up to you whether that means boyfriends or best friends), but since chris is a year older than charlie, he goes off to college and leaves charlie alone in their hometown for a year. go wherever you want with this; maybe they continue to meet up regularly, maybe they have issues that they resolve, maybe they have issues that they don't resolve, etc.
> 
> Yes so that was my prompt but I accidentally wrote it backwards and Chris is younger than Charlie in this. It's because Chris failed kindergarten.

“C’mon Wags,” Charlie goaded, wrapping his arm around Chris and crushing him against his side. The rough polyester of his cheap graduation robe ground into Chris’ cheekbone where it was pressed into Charlie’s shoulder. Damn him and his heeled dress shoes. “Just one picture.” 

“Fine.” There was no reason to feel this angry at Charlie’s graduation, he kept telling himself. He tugged at his polo shirt, internally regretting the decision to get so dressed up. The fabric was sticking to the sweat that had dripped to the small of his back. It seemed like everyone else milling around on the football field were in t-shirts. "But I won't sm-"

"Please smile," and he used his serious voice this time, the one he used when he was not dealing with Chris' shit anymore. His mom was in front of them now, squatting slightly, counting down from three with her digital camera in her hands. 

Chris smiled. 

As the camera flashed, Charlie squeezed the soft part of his side where his hand was wrapped around Chris' waist. For once, he didn't flinch.

“Let me see that,” Chris said, snatching the diploma cover from Charlie’s hands as soon as he had been released from his death grip. He flipped it around to read their school name that had been embossed on the dark green vinyl, and then opened it with a flourish. “It’s empty?”

“I know,” Charlie laughed, “They’re going to mail it to me later, or whatever.” His mom had found some other parents to visit with, and they were smiling and chattering away. One of them was misty-eyed.

Chris shoved the cover back into Charlie’s gut a little too forcefully. “Well that’s stupid. That means this whole thing was stupid, you came out here to get hot and sweaty and not even get a diploma. I hate this entire fake thing.”

“Come on,” Charlie sighed. He’d unzipped his graduation robe so that it hung around him like a big overcoat or something like that. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and shifted his weight to one side, that little thing he did when he knew he looked good. Chris wanted to point it out, but he bit his tongue. “You know we can still hang out next year, right? I’m not going to be that far away.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chris said, too quickly. There was no hiding from Charlie. “Yeah, we’re going to hang out loads while you’re at college. Cause you’re going to miss me so much, I’m sure.” Sarcasm was his greatest talent. 

“I am going to miss you,” Charlie said softly. 

Bingo. He was so fucking soft. Chris loved getting what he wanted. 

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have failed kindergarten,” Charlie grinned, impish, as he took a few steps backwards to avoid Chris’ impending retaliation. 

“I hate you so much,” and he almost meant it as he tried to whack Charlie on the shins with his own diploma. He didn’t know what emotion he was feeling anymore.

“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

________________

“Remind me again why I’m on the back end of this?” Chris wheezed out. He was going to be crushed to death by Charlie’s ugly ass loveseat- his arms were going to give out, and the weight of it was going to push him all the way back down the narrow dorm stairs Tom and Jerry style.

Charlie grunted as he took a few more stumbling steps up the stairs. “Weren’t you the one just bragging about how muscle-y you’d gotten this summer?”

He really couldn’t focus on anything but how hideous the loveseat was. They’d found it for cheap at a thrift shop in town, and even though it didn’t have any suspicious stains, the upholstery was a maroon and mustard paisley. No, seriously. 

“Can you lift it any higher?” Charlie asked, sounding strained.

“No, I cannot lift it any higher.”

Charlie’s dorm was pitiful, and the couch didn’t help much. There was the standard-issue dresser, desk, and bed- which he’d already thrown his navy quilt over. The only decor on the chipped beige walls was a Bruins game day poster from three years ago. Charlie tacked it up as soon as he’d gotten the key to the room. (“Can we get more boxes out of the truck before you stop to decorate?” Chris had said, feeling very justified in his complaint.)

“Welp,” Charlie said, wiping sweat from his brow as he set down a box, “That’s about it.” 

For once, Chris found himself speechless. He nodded from where he was perched on the arm of the loveseat, trying to think of something stupid to say, but came up short when he had nothing to look at but the creased poster and Charlie. His skin was summery tan and dewy with sweat and the afternoon light spilling in through the window framed him just so. Chris had the sudden impulse to take a picture, to capture a moment of the final hours before they no longer lived in the same town. Before everything officially changed. 

“You wanna go get icees?” is what he finally settled on.

Charlie grinned. “Hell yeah, I wanna go get icees.”

________________

**Charlie:** _my roommate got here lol_

 **Charlie:** _I went to get dinner and came back and all his stuff was just in here_

 **Charlie:** _I was only gone for half an hour??_

Chris smiled down at his phone, then forced the corners of his mouth back down before typing his reply. _So he’s in the room? Or just the stuff_

 **Charlie:** _no he’s here_

 **Charlie:** _he hasn’t said a single word_

 _Is he foreign?_ Chris sent back.

 **Charlie:** _no idea_

Chris rolled his eyes and threw his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t see Charlie’s messages until it felt too late to respond.

 **Charlie:** _this is weird_

 **Charlie:** _come baaaaaack_

________________

“Nah, surely there’s some news. It’s been more than a month. Nothing?” Charlie snapped his wrist and sent the frisbee flying back towards Chris.

There was nothing new to report- and besides, he would have felt stupid to text him during the week with high school stuff. Like, Charlie had a hundred new things in his life now. It seemed strange to think that it was only a few months ago that they didn’t have the need to text each other at all, because they were with each other more often than not.

This was his first time back on campus since helping Charlie move in, and they had spent the afternoon together on the quad tossing the frisbee back and forth. The first hints of fall in the air, just a touch of dead leaf smell which he loved. He also loved to annoy Charlie by saying “dead leaf smell” every other sentence. 

“I dunno,” Chris mumbled. He bit back something about how’d they cracked down on students skipping class which had landed him in detention one too many times already. “Just same old same old.” 

“Uh huh,” Charlie was grinning like he thought something was funny. “And how many detentions so far?” 

“Shut up.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a self-satisfied smile. 

The truth was more simple than Charlie was thinking, probably. School without him was painfully boring. Charlie left, and so did his group of friends that Chris always hung out with by association. Similarly, Chris’ motivation to do most anything also left the building. Whatever.

“Well when you get here, you only get like, four skips,” Charlie continued, going to his tip-toes to snag the frisbee out of the air. “So you better get that under control.” 

Charlie’s toss back to him hit his knuckles and he winced. “First off,” he said, trying to get a good snap on the frisbee for payback, “who says I’m coming here. Second off, you’re not my dad.” 

There was a satisfying thunk as the frisbee smacked into the meat of Charlie’s palm. “Please stop trying to decapitate me with this thing, thanks,” he said as he threw it back with an exaggerated effort to be gentle. “I say you’re coming here.”

“We’ll see.” 

“It would restore the balance of the universe if you were here.” 

Chris felt his face get warm against his will and rolled his eyes. “You’ve seen Star Wars too many times.” 

“You love Star Wars,” Charlie said, always ready to argue. “Hey and uh, speaking of movies, do you want to put on a movie tonight? My roommate is gone for the weekend, so,” he shrugged.

Watching movies with Charlie was something done exclusively in his parent’s basement, so Chris was blindsided by the question. It was weird, really. It was something they didn’t really talk about, and something that Chris tried not to spend a lot of time thinking about. Because when Charlie asked if he wanted to watch a movie, that’s not really what he was asking. There was not much more than an old couch and a TV in the basement, but Charlie would turn out all the lights (“This way it’s like the theatre,” was always the excuse) and throw a queen-sized old quilt over the both of them. The movie didn’t matter, that wasn’t what it was about. It was about Charlie getting settled in the squishiest corner of the couch and pulling Chris close. As the movie went on, Chris would almost always end up with his head on Charlie’s chest, drowsy from the low light and the steady thrum of his heart beating against his ear. Chris didn’t know how many times they’d done this last year. A lot. 

It wasn’t normal, probably. But Chris liked it more than he cared to admit, so he would never say anything to jeopardize their little arrangement. He didn’t know that it was something that was going to continue now that Charlie was no longer in their hometown, but-

“Hellooo? Earth to Wags, do you copy?” Charlie bonked him in the head with the frisbee. “Movies? Yes or no?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” he nodded, trying to appear unaffected.

________________

“You pick,” Charlie said, like he did every single time. He was already pulling the old quilt over onto the loveseat.

Chris brought up the Netflix menu and clicked through until he found something that didn’t sound disgusting. Yeah, Charlie was probably gonna bitch because they’d watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off at least twice already, but whatever. It’s a good movie. 

He glanced back at Charlie who was already making a place next to him for Chris to settle into. “We’ve seen this a hundred times,” he said, predictable as ever. 

Chis nodded, satisfied. “Yup,” he said, nearly tripping over the giant quilt to join Charlie on the loveseat. As he eyeballed the half-cushion of space left over, he was doubtful he could squeeze in. He wasn’t exactly a small dude. “There’s not gonna be enough room for us on this thing.” 

That was apparently too much acknowledgement of their impending cuddle for Charlie, and a flash of a frown crossed his face. “There’s room,” he said, unflinching. It was more of a challenge than an affirmation. 

“Fine then,” Chris huffed, sitting down hard halfway in the empty spot and halfway on Charlie’s leg. “You comfy?” 

“Yeah I’m very comfy. Nothing like having a grumpy old man’s bony ass stab you in the leg,” he complained, arms already coming up to cover his head from Chris’ incoming karate chops. “Just relax. Re-lax,” and he brought one of his hands to wrap around the back of Chris’ neck. 

Ferris had his hair slicked up in the shower on the screen.

“I’m relaxed.” Chris was trying to be. Really. He was still halfway in Charlie’s lap, though. He had this sort of grip on the back of his neck, like he thought he was going to run away, and his thumb started absentmindedly running through the tiny hairs at his nape. It was relaxing, in a way, but it also filled him with this weird electric restless energy, like he was going to kick his legs out without warning. 

That was always the thing. They both knew what they were going to do, but it was like a game of chicken to see who would be the first to let go. At one moment, his whole body was like a taut bowstring, and in the next all of the tension had evaporated from his body and he was somehow laying with his head and shoulders in Charlie’s lap. His heart was thudding in his ear where it was pressed against Charlie’s thigh. He could feel Charlie relax along with him, the muscles in his legs became soft against him. Something about the feeling made a zip run down his spine.

He dozed off some time after Ferris and his friends visited the art museum, with Charlie’s warm hands halfway in his hair and the old quilt weighing him into the loveseat.

“Wags,” Charlie whispered. 

He opened his eyes to total darkness- the sun had set while he was asleep. “Shit,” he said, laughing a little as he sat up. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t know what you’re apologizing for,” Charlie said, and Chris could hear the smile. “You fall asleep in every movie.” 

He wanted to say something smart back, but his brain was half asleep. He was still warm, and his arms were sleep-weak. It would have been so nice to sink back into Charlie’s chest and- Wait. 

“Well,” he said with finality. “This was nice. Thanks for having me over.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Charlie said, knowing an exit speech when he heard one. “I’ll let you know when I’m back in town.” 

Chris nodded. “Sounds good.” He grabbed his keys from Charlie’s desk and shoved his feet into his shoes. “See you later,” and with that, he let himself out of Charlie’s dorm before he could get up to walk him out.

He didn’t realize until he cranked his car that it was nearly seven o’clock. They couldn’t have started the movie later than four, which meant that Charlie had let him sleep for almost an hour after the movie ended. That should be- it should be something, but thinking about it felt like trying to jam puzzle pieces in where they didn’t fit. 

That was the last time he would see Charlie for another two months.

________________

________________

“Hey,” Charlie’s voice came through the phone, tinny and distant. “Chris?”

“What’s wrong?” Chris said, suddenly upright in his bed. Charlie only called him by his first name when shit was serious. It was 2 am, and it was only through luck he heard his phone ringing- he’d left it on vibrate by accident. “You okay?”

“Chris,” he sighed, long and drawn out. “I am… okay.” 

Well, that was better than not okay. “Are you drunk?” he asked, leaning forward to turn on the lamp on his bedside table.

“Yes,” Charlie said, hissing on the S. “I don’t know where my friends are.” 

“You at a party?” Chris scrubbed at his eyes, trying to get his brain to wake up. 

Charlie and alcohol was a relatively new development. A few times he’d gotten some typo-filled texts late at night, but nothing particularly odd. He told himself that it was normal, just normal college kid stuff. But something about the idea of Charlie glassy eyed and wasted, laid out on some gross frat house couch made him feel sick. Chris didn’t know what was wrong with his brain- like, if Charlie was getting invited to parties, that was a good thing, right? 

“Yes, but it’s like…” Charlie swallowed, the click of his throat audible over the phone. “Mostly over. I think.” 

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but Charlie beat him to it. 

“I can’t find the people I came with, they left and didn’t get me and now I can’t find them. I texted and they won’t text me back. And the people left here are mostly asleep but I don’t know them and I don’t want to sleep here, I want to go back. And I don’t know what to do.” 

He sounded kinda pitiful. “Well, do you need me to come and get you?” he asked, voice hushed. Driving all the way over there in the early morning hours wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. Also it was a fucking Thursday. Well. Friday, now. 

“Would you please,” Charlie said, as gentle as he'd ever heard him speak. “Chris, please. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. It’s going to take me a minute to get there. Share your location with me so I know where to find your ass,” he said, grabbing a jacket and jamming his shoes on his feet. If his mom woke up, he was toast. 

“Okay. Imma wait outside for you,” Charlie said, and hung up.

________________

Chris made the fifty minute drive in a hot thirty-five.

________________

He found Charlie exactly where he said he would be, sitting on the curb and leaning against the mailbox.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Chris said, and Charlie’s face lifted to meet him. He looked like shit. “You look like shit,” he told him, because why not.

“Wags,” he said, and then something else that was too muffled to make out. Whatever. 

Chris grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet, dragging him along to the open passenger side door of his ancient Range Rover. “Buckle yourself in,” he directed, still kinda pissed at the world and at the fact it was nearly three in the morning. He cranked the car, trying not to be unnerved by Charlie’s silence. He had been listening to music on the drive over, and the audio system came on automatically.

“Oh shit,” Charlie whispered, bringing both hands up to cover his face, “Blue Rodeo.” 

“Yeah,” Chris laughed, relaxing his shoulders for the first time since he had been peacefully asleep. “I forget how much you love this album.”

“Only cause it’s yours,” Charlie said from behind his hands. 

There were three CDs in Chris’ car. No, it did not have Bluetooth, USB, or even an auxiliary port. Fully old school in the Wagsmobile. If you wanted music, it was either The Best of Kansas, Motown Christmas Vol. 2, or Blue Rodeo. So it was usually Blue Rodeo. 

Chris had always assumed that Charlie liked Blue Rodeo before they’d met, like any sane person would, but he made it sound like… something different.

“You know,” Charlie continued, “makes me think of you.” 

Chris reached out and punched the power button on the console, cutting off the music. It wasn’t a conscious decision. The silence in the car was jarring, and his ears rang with the absence of sound. He couldn’t- things in his brain weren't lining up. This whole thing was weird. Something inside him lurched, like he’d missed a step going down stairs. “Don’t want you to get a headache,” he said, sounding choked. He knew it was a cheap excuse. Charlie made a noise of protest, but that was it.

He thought that perhaps the worst was over once he’d gotten Charlie back into the dorm, especially since his roommate was absent once again. 

The room was dark as he pushed his way inside. An orange streetlight from outside bled through the window, casting a long rectangle of light on the ground. It was enough to see for now. Chris had never been around someone so completely shitfaced. He watched, nervous, as Charlie stumbled around his room- somehow removing his contacts and pulling off his shoes. There was no way he was going to try to drive back tonight. He wouldn’t get back until almost five, and the real truth was that he didn’t want to leave Charlie alone like this. There wasn’t any good place to sleep in the dorm, but he could probably curl up on the loveseat and get at least an hour or two. 

He realized Charlie was looking at him as he pulled the quilt over himself. His legs were cramped, halfway folded to fit onto the cushion.“You’re cozy,” Charlie slurred. “You wanna watch a movie?” He sat down halfway on his legs, and put a heavy hand on the back of his neck like he’d done a hundred times before. He sighed, and pushed his fingers up through Chris’ hair.

“No,” Chris snapped, resisting the urge to push into the touch. “I want you to go the fuck to sleep.”

Charlie’s eyes went wide and he pulled his hand away. “Hey, I-”

“Get in your bed and close your eyes and go to sleep. And don’t talk to me anymore,” he said, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Charlie silently obeying, pulling off his jeans and rolling into his own bed. He waited until Charlie went still and his breath evened out to lay his own head down on the pillow. 

Something behind his ribs was cracking up, twisting and breaking like trees in a storm. Like he was getting blown up on those slow-motion YouTube videos, shattering and drifting apart piece by piece, spinning off into the distance. The weight of it was going to crack his ribs, they couldn’t take the pressure. He wanted to punch the shit out of Charlie for this, for making him drive all the way out here. For making him fold up and squeeze onto this loveseat that was never designed to hold someone laying down. For asking if he wanted to put on a movie, for having the audacity to suggest something like that, when he knew that it was… whatever it was. Sacred. He wanted to grab the front of his shirt and let loose, wail on him like they were back in junior hockey. 

Or, no, that’s not what he wanted at all. Not at all.

He wanted to climb in bed with Charlie, wanted him to put his hands back on him. To wrap him up in himself, to breathe the same air. He wanted to rest his head in the crook of Charlie’s neck and sleep without an alarm. He wanted to stay with him for this night, and the next night, and the next. 

Shit.

________________

“I’m so sorry, man,” Charlie said to him the next morning while he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Seriously, I don’t know what happened to the group I was with.”

Chris’ twisted anger returned in full force. “Do you even remember what all happened last night?” he said, a little mean on purpose. 

“Bits and pieces,” he shrugged. “I don’t know what I drank that make me get like that- I swear I’ve never been-”

“Well honestly, I don’t know what you do. Or what they give you at those parties.” He was still angry, at what, he didn’t know. “And now I have another unexcused absence to deal with. But yeah, you’re welcome for saving your ass.”

“Wags, come on, man, I said sorry,” Charlie said. “It wasn’t really that big of a deal, I mean, I guess I should have called someone else-”

“No,” Chris interrupted. “It’s not that. You- You shouldn’t-” Fuck. “It was good that you called me.”

There was a moment of silence then, where Chris thought he’d messed up somehow. That he’d showed his hand. But Charlie just scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the linoleum for a moment like he was really having to think. Then he pulled out his desk chair and sat down, looking even more hungover than before. “Okay, so then what’s the problem? You know,” he started, chewing his bottom lip, “If I said something that hurt your feelings last night, I promise you from the bottom of my heart I didn’t mean it. You’re- I wouldn’t say something to hurt your feelings on purpose.”

Chris’ brain was completely fucking shorting out. “You didn’t hurt my feelings,” he said, and with all the anger out of his voice he sounded miles away. 

Another beat of silence passed between them, this one more palpable than the last. Charlie blew out a long breath and put his face into his hands. “So… what’s going on, then? I feel like I’m playing twenty questions with you here, man.”

“I don’t feel normally about you,” Chris said before he could take it back. “Like, I don’t know what my problem is. Sometimes I just. I don’t know. It’s not normal.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Charlie asked, and Chris really wished he knew. 

His face was creased, like he thought he was going to have to take him to the hospital or something. It was like that time they’d been climbing the trees that lined the back of his grandfather’s property when he’d slipped off a limb and tumbled to the ground. They’d both heard the sound of his wrist snapping. Charlie drove him to the clinic, making stupid jokes the whole time and ignoring the few tears that squeezed their way out of Chris’ eyes. They had sat next to each other in the waiting room, and when the nurse came out to call for him, she said she didn’t know who looked more pale in the face. 

That’s kinda how he felt now. All the color had drained from Charlie’s face as he stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

“I don’t know,” Chris finally said. “Just forget I said anything,” he said, and bolted out of the door.

________________

Charlie knocked on his front door the next weekend, something he had never done in his entire life. He was bundled up, wearing his favorite knit cap pulled down over his ears and his khaki jacket with the fleece collar he thought looked cool. “Hey,” he said, kicking his feet against the welcome mat. “I was wondering if you wanted to get icees.”

Well, the answer to that question was always yes. “Did you drive all the way over here for icees?” he asked, suspicious. Like, duh, he wanted icees, but it was also sort of chilly outside.

“No, I drove all the way over here to talk to you.” 

Chris let that hang in the air for a second. “Okay, we can go get icees.” 

The icee machine at Burger King was broken, then there was a weirdly long line at the Shell, so they ended up going to the Subway inside of the Wal-Mart.

“My friends and I are going to the lake next weekend, and you can come if you want,” Charlie said finally, slurping his icee obnoxiously. “Should be a good time.”

Chris knew Charlie’s life well enough that he knew ‘friends’ meant the guys he was hanging out with pretty regularly now: Anders and Sean for sure, sometimes Jake or Other Charlie or Brandon. Somebody named Pasta.

“It would be cool if you came along, is what I’m saying,” he continued. “I’ll pick you up.” 

“Is that what you drove over here to ask me?” Chris said, incredulous. “Seriously? Isn’t it going to be cold?”

Charlie’s icee was down to the frozen chunk at the bottom, and he was having to stab it with his straw and suck up the individual pellets. “Yeah,” he said as if that was a stupid question, swirling his straw around.

“You know I’m not mad about last weekend, right?” Chris really didn’t need to be invited to some kind of college event as an apology. 

“I know that, I’m just asking you if you want to go to the lake. Do you want to go to the lake with me, yes or no?” 

“Yeah okay,” Chris said, turning away to hide his smile. “I’ll go.”

________________

It was cold at the lake, super fucking cold, actually. Chris wasn’t crazy, so he opted to stay out of the water and inside the boat with the only other sane person in the group. The friends that Charlie was referring to earlier ended up being a fairly small bunch- Anders, Sean, Jake, and Pasta.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Anders said, leaning against the side of the boat, “you legend.” 

Anders was the friendliest after his brief introduction to the gang. He had the aura of a surfer somehow, like a beach bum had washed up against the shore of the Atlantic ocean. He was from Wisconsin, apparently, which only confused Chris further. But besides that- legend? Anders must’ve seen the confusion flash across his face, because he laughed and nodded to himself. “Yep, oh yeah. Legend status. Charlie never shuts up about you.”

“Really?” Chris’ internal monologue was screaming to know more. Like, really? He glanced around, looking for the rest of the group. He squinted against the sun reflecting off the waves. There were four heads poking out of the water in the distance, way out of earshot. “Is that right?”

“Are you kidding? Yeah, man. Crazy about you, or whatever. We always have to stop and take pictures of shit _for Wags_ ” he said in what Chris assumed was his best Massachusetts Charlie impression. Anders was smiling at him gently. “And I know it must be hard, being away from each other and all that,” he continued. “Long-distance is like, serious, so it’s nice you aren’t too far-”

“No. No,” Chris let out a nervous laugh. Anders thought that- “Ah, no. No. He’s not- We-” He felt like he was having a fucking stroke. “He’s not my-” He swallowed. “He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Oh, no shit?” Anders said, smiling good-naturedly. “That’s my bad, bro!”

“Is that what people think?” Chris asked before he could stop himself. “About us?”

Anders seemed to realize that he’d fucked up a little bit. “I don’t know what other people think, that’s just what I thought.” 

Chris opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He hated himself at that moment.

“It’s not that big of a deal, just my bad,” Anders continued, determined to keep the chill. “He’s a good guy.” 

“Yeah, he’s a great fucking guy,” Chris said back immediately, because he didn’t need someone who’d known Charlie a few months to tell him that Charlie was a good guy. Shit. 

Before he could think of something else to say, he could hear Jake yelling in their general direction from where he was slowly swimming back towards them. “Yo, I think I have hyperthermia!”

“Don’t you mean hypothermia?” Charlie called back. 

“Nah man, I’m freezing,” Jake’s lips were blue. “Hey guys,” he said to Chris and Anders, teeth chattering as he pulled himself up and over into the boat. 

The rest of the group were quick to follow Jake back into the boat, and then back to shore for a bonfire. It was fun, being there amongst Charlie’s friends. Chris was worried it was going to be awkward, but they acted as though he had been there all along. And the strangest thing was, from the way they talked, it was almost as if he _had_ been there all along. They knew him, in a way, just by being friends with Charlie. Because Charlie talked about all the time, apparently.

As they sat around the fire passing around a box of Cheez-Its, it was easy to let his mind wander back to what Anders had said in the boat. He looked over at Charlie, who smiled at him without hesitation. Chris smiled back, and it was easy. It was easy to think of what it would be like if Charlie was his boyfriend. He was hyper aware of each passing touch, the way that Charlie would lay a hand on his shoulder as he walked behind his chair. The way his curls had gone tight from the lake water, the way he looked in his favorite hoodie. The way that Charlie never let him be left out of a conversation, quick to explain any college reference that he didn’t understand. The rest of the group didn’t seem annoyed at all- in fact, Sean kept looking over at him and giving him a reassuring smile, like maybe he thought the same thing as Anders.

It was easy.

________________

“It was cool you finally got to meet my friends,” Charlie said, finally breaking the silence in the car. He was driving Chris back to his house, and the weight of the late autumn night felt heavy on his shoulders. Something about being at the lake had wedged into the hairline cracks of his being. If Charlie asked him any questions, he was going to spill his guts. It was all waiting on the tip of his tongue. “They like you now more than me, I’m sure,” Charlie joked.

“Aw, no,” Chris laughed nervously. “They seem like good guys, for real.” 

Charlie’s phone was connected to the audio system, and it was playing so quietly that Chris could barely hear it. Blue Rodeo.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, halfway a sigh. 

The car returned to silence. 

Chris had shared many moments of comfortable silence with Charlie, just spending time together, enjoying each other’s company. This was not one of those times.

“You know, your friend Anders thought I was your boyfriend,” Chris blurted out. Holy fuck. Charlie visibly tensed beside him, and oh my god, this was it. The moment that he took a step too far. Crossed the line.

“Oh yeah?” Charlie’s voice was weird, weak and distant. “Really?”

Chris made himself laugh a little even though there was nothing funny. “Yeah.” 

“Well.” He hummed a little to himself. “Anders has gay aunts, I think, so he’s pretty chill about that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” They passed under neighborhood streetlights, and Chris watched Charlie’s face appear and disappear, illuminated by an orange glow, and then back into darkness. “That’s cool.” 

They were on his street now, and Chris felt his breath coming faster against his will. Charlie didn’t say another word until he’d pulled into his driveway and put the car in park. Then he turned the engine off, but left the car on so that the music would keep playing. Chris felt so nervous he thought he might pass out, because- he couldn’t even get his brain together to decide what he should say. His skin was buzzing, the electricity he only felt around Charlie zinging through his arms, and he hated this kind of anticipation. He should get it over with.

“Charlie-”

“Chris-” Charlie said before Chris could even get his name out. He took a deep breath, and yeah, shit was serious. “It-” He was nervous, too. Chris could tell. “It doesn’t bother me. That Anders thought that.” 

That wasn’t enough for Chris to get his hopes up. Like, he wasn’t a homophobe either. He should probably make that clear. “Yeah, me either, really.”

Charlie cursed under his breath, and then did a weird nervous laugh while unbuckling his seatbelt. “I… Do you remember, when you were leaving my dorm a few weekends ago, do you remember what you said to me?”

“Maybe.” He remembered exactly what he’d said. He had been playing it in his mind over and over for weeks, wondering if he messed up or should’ve said something different or something more. 

“Well,” he swallowed. “You said that you didn’t feel… normally. About me.” 

Chris nodded. His voice didn’t come. 

“I just keep thinking about that. Because,” Charlie was so nervous his hand was trembling. Chris had never seen him shake before. “Tell me if I’m reading the play wrong here. But I don’t think I feel normally either. Not just a normal friend, I mean.”

“Charlie,” his voice barely a whisper. 

“I just. I want to be with you, and do nice things for you, and a lot of times I really want to kiss you,” Charlie said all at once, reaching out to take Chris’ hand. “I don’t want to mess things up but I can’t pretend like it’s not what I want more than anything, and being without you this year has just made me realize-” 

Chris reached up and put his hand against Charlie’s cheek and guided their mouths together. There was a soft noise as their lips parted, and Charlie’s breath stuttered against his cheek. They kissed again, and Chris let himself get lost in it. He didn’t know how much he needed this until he had it- and-

Hm.

Yeah.

“Me too,” Chris said against Charlie’s lips, at least ten minutes later. They were still close enough that he could feel Charlie smile against him. “I didn’t-” Chris’ next words were muffled by Charlie kissing him again. “I didn’t know if- Mmm- Would you let me finish, please.” 

“Yes,” Charlie murmured, moving on to his neck. “Keep talking.” 

“I didn’t know you felt the same,” he said, voice gone high-pitched. Charlie nipped the corner of his jaw and he had to suck in a breath. He’d forgotten to breathe somewhere along the line. “Or I would have said something earlier.” 

“I feel the same,” he said, gentle and reassuring. “I feel the same.” 

“When can I see you again?” Chris asked, unwilling to think about another long few months without Charlie.

“Thanksgiving break?” Charlie kissed him again, this one more of a promise, somehow. “You can come over. I’ll let you pick the movie.” 

Maybe he should have made a stupid joke, or sworn to pick a movie Charlie hated, but he could only lean into him and let himself feel loved. 

When he finally tore himself away from Charlie, he let himself into his house and laid awake in his bed for hours, replaying every second of their conversation.

 **Charlie:** _hey i’m back at the dorm_

 **Charlie:** _thanks for coming with me tonight_

 **Charlie:** _you should put a heart by my name now haha_

Chris hid his grin in his hands even though it was dark in his bedroom. _ill think about it_ he replied.

 **Charlie ❤️:** :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Say hello or send hate mail to my Tumblr [@fridgefishwrites](https://fridgefishwrites.tumblr.com)


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